


CABIN FEVER

by jonnor_chaos



Series: CONFRONTING OURSELVES [3]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Harrison Osterfield - Fandom, Haz Osterfield - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Feelings, Gay, Honey, LGBT, Love, M/M, Plane, Pride, Tea, argument, flight, friends - Freeform, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnor_chaos/pseuds/jonnor_chaos
Summary: This isn't right. They are best friends. Why does Tom want him so badly? Why is he trying so hard to resist?





	CABIN FEVER

We sat opposite each other, staring out the windows at the world that was now far below.

Leaving the hotel, among the cheers and flashes from the fans outside had been uncomfortable. We posed, we smiled, we laughed. Actors doing what they do best.

_If it weren’t for you lot, he might see things between us differently._ I thought, only slightly bitterly.

I took a breath. Calmed down only slightly and put on the mask again. Form my sake and his. To his credit, Tom had the decency to look guilty when we made it into the waiting car.

_Could cut this tension with a butter knife._ I thought to myself as we drove. _At least it can’t get any worse._ Boy was I wrong about that one.

The airport and terminal to the chartered flight had been painfully slow and awkward on so many levels. Tom had tried to make way for me, usher me through first, I had ignored his efforts. I could see his frustration growing at my stubborn refusal to be placated. Pride makes you a fool sometimes.

The studio agents, charged with taking care of their new star (and by extension, me) could only make small talk so often before realising it was not worth their effort. That’s how we boarded the jet. Sullen and silent.

With the crowds and ground far behind us, the silence settled in. Neither of us willing to speak first. Stealing sideways glances. Ignoring the small gap between us.

_PING!_ My phone went off. I unlocked it without thinking, grateful for the distraction.

_TOM : This is fucking ridiculous, Haz. Why can’t we just talk?_

I hadn’t even seen him take his phone out to type a message. But he had it in his hands still and was looking steadily out the window again.

_Don’t respond. Leave him to stew. Don’t do it._ I told myself internally. _Ah shit…_

_HARRISON : I was talking. You’re the one who wasn’t listening, Thomas._

His attention turned to the phone immediately when the message came up on his screen. I watched him read it and saw his face tighten. _Here we go again._

_TOM : You wouldn’t let it go! I couldn’t think._

_HARRISON : You bloody hit me Tom!_

I saw his anger slip a little, his face reddening at the memory of what he had done. My own mind, the traitorous bitch, flashed up an image of him touching my cheek, stepping toward me. _Fuck!_

_TOM : I know._

I huffed audibly and he looked at me, I held his gaze with a blank expression for a moment before sending back a response.

_HARRISON : Is that all you have to say?_

That question made him pause. I could see the struggle he was having inside – between the automatic response of denial - ignore it and it will go away – and being honest about things – facing up to them.

_TOM : I said I was sorry. I meant that, Haz. I fucked up I know. Please._

Before I could reply and continue our pseudo-conversation, the flight attended entered the cabin with a tray of tea and biscuits, something that happened after takeoff on every flight of this tour. I saw his expression change a bit, the wall ready to be lifted up again. But the attendant left, smiling as she turned around.

Silence followed. It was thick, it had to stop.

“You did.” I said out loud.

 

* * *

 

Tom’s head perked up and turned to me, “I… I did what?” he asked, a bit thrown that I had spoken after so many hours.

“You fucked up,” I explained, “I know you’re sorry…”

“I really, really am, Haz,” he interrupted, sounding almost childlike in his desperation for me to believe him, “Please… I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little, underneath the frustration and anger of the last while, he was still himself. “I know.”

He let out a small sigh of relief. “So, we’re good now?”

I wanted to be. To just go back to how things had been 24 hours ago. But even that would be a lie. My feelings for him, his for me, this _thing between_ us, was always there, just below the surface. It had been for weeks.

“We are,” I assured him, ‘but we still…”

He ran a hand threw his hair and inhaled,  “I should have known there would be a _but_ somewhere in there.”

I remained calm, not letting myself react in any way that would ruin this conversation, I hoped.

“ _But_ ,” I said again, “we can’t go around avoiding this anymore, Tom.”

He stood and began to pour himself a cup of tea, his way of staying rational. “What if… what if we just let it be what is?” he asks, avoiding eye contact.

“But what _is it?”_ I countered.

“Haz…” he began.

“I know you don’t like talking about this but it’s been weeks. I’ve seen how you watch me sometimes, how you look at me when you think my attention is somewhere else. And I know you have seen me looking at you.”

“So,” he interjected, “you’re my best friend and we’re on this crazy ride. I’m just looking out for you.”

I arched an eyebrow, “You know it’s more than that. Sometimes, like the other night in the club, when I was dancing with those girls, it looked like….” I got shy, feeling the heat in my own cheeks. “It looked like you were jealous.”

“Well of course I was,” he said, swallowing another sip of tea, “you were with...”

“Don’t even!” I said, “Don’t make it sound like you were jealous because you wanted the girls.”

He moved to sit, this time in the seat next to mine, I could see the gears grinding beneath his appearance, searching for the best way to confront what he couldn’t avoid this high in the sky.

“It wasn’t because I wanted the girls.” He said softly, the cup and saucer shaking just barely in his hand. “But we had been drinking Haz...”

“Fucking hell!” I said a bit too loudly, standing up. He looked at me. “What are you so afraid of? Huh?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he shouted back, rising to face me, “and you just keep thi…”

“Then tell me, Thomas,” I said firmly.

 

* * *

 

 

“Haz, don’t do…”

“What? Are you gonna hit me again?”

He flinched, “I _promised_ you that I wouldn’t.”

I walked away from him, up the short aisle.

“Harrison…” he said, quieter now. I raised a hand to him, I needed a second. He understood.

_Maybe you have been going about this the wrong way._ I told myself. _Perhaps the key was to lay my cards out first, let him see._

“Are… are we not talking again?” he asked softly behind me, there was a hint of fear in his voice, he didn’t like fighting, especially not with me. I knew that. I felt the same.

“No, no we’re still talking.” I assured him.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you again,” he ventured.

“I shouted too.”

“I know,” he said, “it’s just that, _fuck,_ I don’t even know, Harrison.”

I walked back to him, “I do.”

He looked at me questioningly. This man that I could not resist. I smiled and leaned in, my hand lightly brushing down his own and kissed him lightly on the lips. Tea, with honey. Familiar.

“Why?” he asked, eyes never leaving mine.

“You already know why.” I replied, my hand still linked with his.

“Oh.” he whispered.


End file.
